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GLENNON
DOYLE

Watching Him Walk Away Is Like Looking Right At The Sun

September 10, 2014

I just dropped Chase off at middle school. MIDDLE SCHOOL.

Like I’ve been doing for three weeks now- I let him out of the car. I let him walk away from me and toward that huge building filled with PEOPLE AND DYNAMICS AND IDEAS and other horrible wonderful things that will break his heart and MAKE his heart and that I have no business trying to control. I let him walk toward a life that is HIS and not mine. Toward experiences that he is meant to have without me. Toward journeys he has to take alone.

Someone needs to create a word that describes what happens inside of a mama’s heart as she’s watching her child walk into a school building. We need a word for the feeling that overtakes her after saying goodbye to her infant who is somehow masquerading as a young MAN and who is walking away from her into his adolescent life. A word to describe the phenomena that is a mother sitting helplessly in her empty van while her heart silent screams her daily PLEASEPLEASEPLEASES!!!PLEASE be good to him Please see his strengths and overlook his weaknesses Please sit by him at lunch. Please smile back when he smiles. Please want to be his partner. Please be gentle. Pleasepleaseplease.PLEASE.

And how as she watches him walk away- toward the unknown of his day and away from the KNOWN of her (SO BRAVE! HOW DID HE GET SO BRAVE??? IS THIS LEVEL OF INSANE BRAVENESS EVEN WISE????) her head understands that the world is unfolding as it should. Her head KNOWS that all is well. That he is beginning his LIFE and that LIFE in all its bruty is what he came here for. And that he is ready. But her heart will not receive that memo. Her heart wants to run after him and pull him close and say: JUST JOKING HONEY! WE MADE A MISTAKE! THIS IS TOO MUCH! Come home and we will stay together forever and I will make sure that life NEVER HAPPENS TO YOU. Don’t worry. We will snuggle forever.Because I am not ready.

So she just sits in her empty van for a moment- holding up the car line for a split second too long. Her body is temporarily paralyzed, short circuited by the opposing messages from her head and her heart. The mixed messages SWARM her being and all at once she feels pride and fear and terror and excitement and hope and hopelessness and tenderness and ferocity and loss and gain. All these emotions swirl until her heart becomes so swollen that it threatens to escape out of her throat into tears and so she instructs herself to snap out of it. She shakes herself a bit. She breathes deeply and shrugs it all off and she drives away. And on her way home she tries to restore her heart to its original size by thinking of other things. Practical things. Because it’s all too much. Whatever that feeling is- it’s a lot like looking right at the sun. It’s simply too bright to stand for longer than a moment.

98 Comments

I am responding to a blog from you entitled “Watching Him Walk Away Is Like Looking At The Sun”, which was dated a couple of years ago from the time I am writing this comment. But I couldn’t figure out any other way to contact you (it’s late and I’m tired and I just can’t figure IT ALL * out right now…), so here I am writing to you in a comment. Aaah, the Intranet. Gotta love it. 😉

I recently discovered your book, Carry On Warrior. (Thank You, God. YOU ROCK.) Even more recently, I signed up for your online course “The Wisdom Of Story”. Even though $60 dollars is a lot to me right now (heck, even $48 dollars is a lot to me right now), the guidance you offer to help me own my own story is worth even more. (Ramen noodles are yummy, actually. So I don’t regret NUTHIN’.) And then, THEN something compelled me to preorder your book. Not only for myself, but for two of my dear friends. I HAVEN’T EVEN READ THE THING. Yet I am buying it for myself and two other souls….

Glennon — what can I say that hasn’t been said a zilliion times before? It’s nothing new. The only newness to what I’m about to say is that it’s coming from me. So, I guess I’m saying it more for myself than for you. So be it…

Glennon, THANK YOU. In the short time I’ve “known” you (ie, read your book and online work), I have shifted. Sometimes it’s been so subtle I haven’t even noticed it myself. Until I realized I’ve been speaking out more. And worrying about the end result less. And believe me, that, in and of itself is an absolute MIRACLE.** So, there is nothing more I can say, than those two heartfelt words, from the deepest depths of my soul: THANK YOU.

— Leigh B.

* “IT ALL” being contact emails, correct blog protocol, technology, and life in general

Just wait until you are watching him standing at the end of an aisle, seeing the tears in his eyes as he sees his bride coming towards him. That’s a feeling of, “it will never be the same again”. It’s a mixed feeling, that has ended up wonderful.

I’m a mama of a 1st grader and a 12th grader and some more in between. The first “first day” and the last “first day” all at once, tumbled together, with what feels like such a short time in the middle. I pray for grace and peace as I get that the days are long and the years are short.
blessings on you for sharing the journey.

I’ve read this multiple times and I still can’t even read the intro without crying. EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. is spot on. Trying to focus and the beauty and not worry so much about the hard. But it’s so hard. Thank you for so beautifully putting on paper what I couldn’t say.

This one got to me, G. I watch my sweet, brave 5-year-old face the world of Kindergarten day after day. We’re three weeks in and he has only cried twice. But like you, I hold up the car rider line every morning just a little too long. But my sweet boy tells me often “Mommy, I wish you could park and go inside with me.” And So. Do. I. I want to help him face his day, holding his hand all the way. But instead, I put on a brave face and smile, and tell him he’s big. Inside, all the while, I think he’s so small…and I can’t believe we’re at this stage in life. But I’m so very proud and I pray everyday that his friends are kind. And I pray that he’s not left out of a group. And that he doesn’t sit alone. And that he smiles.
Love you, G, for keepin’ it real!!

My now grown and moved-away daughter was diagnosed with severe depression in the fifth grade. We navigated middle school, high school and college with the help of various medical professionals including a string of therapists and one especially wonderful psychiatrist. One of them shared these very wise words with me….”We must let go of our children as they grow in order to give them space to grow into. If we don’t, then we risk them letting go of us in a very dramatic way.”

I love my kids dearly, deeply and happily but have never understood the mommies crying at the school door. Kids are SUPPOSED to grow up and we should cheer them on every step of the way. If they look back and think leaving us and going to school makes us so sad that we cry it sends a completely counterproductive message.

I’m not crying because I’m sad she is leaving me. I’m crying because I know that she can, and probably will be hurt in middle school and she is doing it anyway. I know I can’t, and shouldn’t, protect my kids from life, but that doesn’t mean I need to sit and enjoy watching my kids go through the very real pain of feeling lost, getting rejected by peers, being alone and lonely, not fitting in, etc. I do my best to encourage them to be brave, try new things, put themselves out there, and do it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I didn’t cry when my kids started kindergarten, because usually those hurts are gotten over quickly, but middle and high school hurts can last a life time. It’s hard to watch and I think that is exactly what Glennon is expressing.

This is week three of my oldest son heading off to middle school as well. Your blog touched my heart and put into words what I have been feeling. Thank you for writing all of our thoughts on paper! He of course loves his new school, his new freedoms and hasn’t even looked back to wave goodbye…not even once!

I just had that moment with my 9-year-old daughter. I kept saying goodbye and she didn’t respond – she just jumped out of the car and walked away without looking back. Heartbreaking! Your post described everything that is happening in my heart to a tee…

I’m a 26 year old male. Last year I left for Vietnam to teach some English. My mom expressed feeling very similar sentiments to the writer of this post, when her son was 26! I’d already experienced the ups and downs for school and out-of-state university. For some reason, my leaving the country re-awakened all those mommy feelings and I love her for it.

Whatever he needs, he has or doesn’t
have by now.
Whatever the world is going to do to him
it has started to do. With a pencil and two
Hardy Boys and a peanut butter sandwich and
grapes he is on his way, there is nothing
more we can do for him. Whatever is
stored in his heart, he can use, now.
Whatever he has laid up in his mind
he can call on. What he does not have
he can lack. The bus gets smaller and smaller, as one
folds a flag at the end of a ceremony,
onto itself, and onto itself, until
only a triangle wedge remains.
Whatever his exuberant soul
can do for him, it is doing right now.
Whatever his arrogance can do
it is doing to him. Everything
that’s been done to him, he will now do.
Everything that’s been placed in him will
come out, now, the contents of a trunk
unpacked and lined up on a bunk in the underpine light.

It is eighteen years ago, almost to the day –
A sunny day with leaves just turning,
The touch-lines new-ruled – since I watched you play
Your first game of football, then, like a satellite
Wrenched from its orbit, go drifting away

Behind a scatter of boys. I can see
You walking away from me towards the school
With the pathos of a half-fledged thing set free
Into a wilderness, the gait of one
Who finds no path where the path should be.

That hesitant figure, eddying away
Like a winged seed loosened from its parent stem,
Has something I never quite grasp to convey
About nature’s give-and-take – the small, the scorching
Ordeals which fire one’s irresolute clay.

I have had worse partings, but none that so
Gnaws at my mind still. Perhaps it is roughly
Saying what God alone could perfectly show –
How selfhood begins with a walking away,
And love is proved in the letting go.

Hi Glennon,
I’ve been going back-and-forth about whether to write this. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever had to face. I don’t know how to really reach you. I don’t know where to start. Your post about looking into the sun is different for me, now. I’ve given every last drop of my life loving my kids and making a home for them…they are my heartbeat. I’ve never been a sucessful writer or businesswoman or anything. Just a mom, taking care of mom business. I LOVED IT. Watching my youngest son, age 15, walk to High School, was like you said, but for different reasons. As if it wasn’t enough he has medical needs, his father left us, we lost our home and live in poverty, I, now, have Lyme disease. I have had it for a year. Right after I was bit, I got in an accident and forgot about the ticks. I thought all of these symptoms were from the accident. My new doctor just put me on antidepressants for, well, all the things, and in a week or so, I remembered about the ticks. After googling myself into oblivion about Lyme, and all the horrible dynamics of it, I realized I need to get busy and reach out to real people. I am so sick and shakey and nauseated now, I can hardly hold up my head. I can’t breathe. It was a bad episode these last few days. I can’t think straight. I am finding it hard to even look at my kids anymore. A friend of our family just died from Lyme complications. I am so scared. We are exhausted beyond words. What do I do, now? What is the next right thing? I don’t know how to carry on, anymore…

I wish I had some words of wisdom for you, I just wanted you to know that your post touched me. I am so sorry that you are having such a hard time. You are not alone, hang in there, take care of yourself as best you can and hang in there!

I think the word you’re looking for is Growth!! That’s it, nothing special, it happens to us all in our lives! It happened to me, it happened to my kids, and still is! We grow into ourselves, develop who we are going to be in this world. We take on board the nuances of the times we live in and incorporate them into who we become. School is part of that. I sometimes wish I could go back to those times and learn again what it is like to live in the now! From a different perspective!

Dearest Glennon,
I, like you, often have ‘too much’ feelings. Mine are typically of the lonely, depressed variety. Despite medication, therapy, mindfulness I find the feelings can be totally crippling at times.
I decided that I need a sponsor much like AA does. I have designated a friend as a sponsor and another as a back-up sponsor. They know that if I contact them in crisis that they are to tell me, “Michelle, I’m sorry you are hurting. Either take a nap, or a bath, or walk the dog. Call me in the morning.” It’s very simple and straightforward. It takes the sponsor 1 minute. For me, it allows me to contact someone who knows and cares about me. It takes me out of me head. In this state of mind I can not tell myself what I should do, and interactions with family proof unhelpful.
I hope that if you like the idea you’ll write about it. It partly stemmed from hearing an interview with an acquaintance of Robin Williams who said that he will always wonder what might have happened if Robin had picked up the phone and called him.
Your blog is a lifeline for me too ~ Profound thanks, Michelle

Rachel, If you happen to be in the san Francisco bay area, contact the Bill Wilson Center’s “Centre for Living with Dying” in Santa Clara, CA. I am a crisis response / grief counseling volunteer there. We respond to school suicides (too often), homicides, and all other grief/loss crisis situations. If you are not nearby, look at this website: http://www.dougy.org/
The Dougy center is a leader in working with kids, families and schools in grief.
I am truly sorry to hear about this tragedy at your school.
Sending you light and love,
Sue O.

If you think that’s rough, just wait until he goes to spend the summer on the other side of the country after college & meets a girl & marries her. Her mother tells you point blank before it even occurs to you that you have to actually CLAIM a holiday to NOT F*** with HER Thanksgiving! She tells you this 3 times to be sure you understand. Then you realize he will never spend Thanksgiving with you ever again because that’s her mother’s favorite holiday & he actually likes his new family & their traditions. Traditions & holidays were the cornerstone of the family you created with the help of Martha Stewart & Sunset magazine moments. And then you have to comprehend that you will never have your son & his wife & future children at your Thanksgiving table even though you didn’t actually agree to give that up. Eventually, he realizes that it would be nice to spend Christmas with you in the wine country so that’s the only week out of 52 that you get to see him & his wife each year & you’re grateful. So you have to work really hard at making it perfect so they’ll keep coming back. And then he’s so busy spending every summer with her family working & playing that pretty soon you only talk on the phone a few times a year. You can see that he’s having a nice life on Facebook but you try not to comment in case you say the wrong thing. So once in awhile you send him a cute video of something he might enjoy with hopes he’ll “like” it & that will suffice as a connection made. You just look at the pictures & tell yourself you did a good job because he’s happy & independent & making good choices. His sister hardly ever hears from him either & has begun to call him a turd rather than Brother Dear. You spend a lot of time wondering if you said or did something wrong for him to not feel the same gapping hole in his heart where our family of four used to be. And then you start to wonder if you even want grandchildren because it will just compound the feeling of loss while he lives his life for what makes him & his wife happy–as he should. Because you let go of him–as you should. So hey, hope it goes better for you than for me but I would give anything right now to sit in a car everyday even if it means I only get to see him walk away again & again…

As soon as you have a child you are in a continuous state of restlessness. As a parent, you put your faith and trust in others to look after the safety and happiness of your own heart that is, your child.It is world of unknowns and scary things and a constant push and pull in letting go of control.

I have to admit Glennon, I breezed through this because I know it all too well – right after where you said “how did he get so brave?”. Because of you. And your hubby. Because of your family. Your openness with each other and you talking to them about the real stuff.

I only wish I had better armed my daughters as I was very naiive and trusting of everyone around me. They grew up to be warriors though, weathered and wise, just like me, their mama!

My son is almost 18 and my first born like your Chase, and we are going through the ups and downs of a girlfriend and breakup. It’s so hard to see an emerging man, I still see the little boy, with the raspy voice who thought girls were gross and our family was the center of his world. Letting him walk through the heartache and pain is so hard, and I absolutely suck at expressing my feelings and giving him coping skills, but I’m trying. I have daughters too, but somehow the sister bond with them makes us soldiers together when life gets hard, it’s different with they boy. Thank you for sharing this, I shared it with my son so he knows why some days I appear to be CRAZY, it’s really the conflict within coming out and the brightness of the Son.

Two years ago, I had to make my sixth grade daughter get out of the car, and it was INFINITELY harder than any kindergarten or other grade school experience I ever had. (not to scare you moms of littler ones…) We circled the drop-off, back to the street, and back into the school parking lot three times before I had to tell her to just get out of the car – with all the you will get through this lectures I could think of. The whole time, I just wanted to say, “oh, never mind. You can try again tomorrow. Let’s go home and eat ice cream in bed.” That, for me, was my defining moment as a mom…when what I really WANT to do for my kid is definitely NOT the best/right choice for who she needs to be. I feel ya, G. I can say that there are days – sometimes two and even three whole days in a row – where I really like her and am excited about her growing up to eventually be my friend. And she would say that getting out of that car was a great decision, now.

Here’s an even worse thought – one day, she is going to want to leave the car. That, I expect, will hurt a lot.

You know how to put my heart into words. And it helps so much to know I’m not alone (not that my boy is a middle-schooler yet, thank goodness!), even in this small/huge thing.

I think you might like this, which also crossed my screen today:

“Mercy:

Mercy abounds throughout the scriptures and on Jesus’ own lips. Presume that God’s love, not damnation, will win out. The final chapter of the Scriptures, and the final chapter of life, is about love. Which is where fear and love can gracefully coincide.”

This is EXACTLY how I felt dropping of my son on his first day of middle school. I didn’t have the words to describe it but you did. Hope you don’t mind but I’m printing your post to use in his school scrapbook.

I would just like to say, that now that I am a mother, I feel the same pulling towards my parents. I suspect that this is because I am a single mother and rely heavily on my folks for emotional support and guidance. Some may perhaps think this is pathetic (ha) but I think I am crazily blessed. My father’s mother has recently moved into a nursing home and family, love, mortality, and did I mention love? – have been throbbing in my heart all week. Watching my parents (and Grandma) age makes me realize the depth of appreciation I have for them. The love and tenderness swell my heart… I don’t think I ever saw this very clearly before I had my daughter. I had no idea how much blood, sweat, and tears they poured into raising me – that they still pour into my life (and now my daughter’s). Every victory for my daughter and me are victories for them. Every heart ache for us, are heart aches for them.

And I feel it with my daughter. She’s 2.5 years old and every day I send her to daycare and as I leave the building, my heart is whispering fervent prayers. The mama bear instinct and love is STRONG!

You nailed it, Glennon.
As always.
I hate to say this, but that feeling just never goes away. Same feelings for me as my last child left for college.
“Because I am not ready.”– whoa…..that really spoke to me.
“Loss and gain”- well….that’s a tough one. I am still feeling the loss, although I know it’s my child’s gain.
Very poignant piece.
Thank you.

I love this Glennon! It explains how I have felt so many times in my 3 boys lives. They are 26, 23 and 21 and my heart is always breaking for them. A mommas heart is a fragile thing. I stopped to see my oldest at work last weekend. When I walked into the restaurant he works at the hostess asked me if she could help me. At the same time my son was walking towards me and I just pointed to him and said ,”nope,got him”. Then he hugged me in a huge bear hug right in front of these women and said, “this is my momma” 🙂 Love that boy to death!

Gah! Rip the band-aid off my heart, G! We’re just one year behind you… I have to read this again next year when my sweet boy starts middle school. Until then – just as we’ve told mamas of toddlers that it gets better – you mamas of middle schoolers PLEASE give us some hope to stave off the panic!!

I fear I have been hopelessly spoilt so far – we live across the road from my children’s tiny primary school, which used to be mine. I have volunteered for years there, and work some hours as a teachers aide. it’s like they haven’t really left me. I’m in for a rude shock, then, when in just over a year, my son will hop on the bus and travel 40 minutes to highschool…omg…

A pastor who I’ve known for quite a while commented on the link when I shared this post, he says the word is priety mixture of pride and anxiety. I can’t help but think of all of the times I feel that mixture, and I have to wonder if this isn’t another carpe kairos moment, because in that moment you see them half way grown and all those excruciating tedious lessons we’ve taught and examples we’ve set the deep breaths we’ve taken, they’re paying off right in front of our very own eyes. And if we’re really lucky they come home and tell us all the stories, even the hard ones to hear and we get to grow together some more, which means more kairos down the line <3

My best friend shared this with me tonight and I type as I sit in my car on brrak from my over night shift….Sobbing. You see, just a few weeks afo I watxhed my baby boy walk into his classroom to start his Kindergarten journey…and today…I watched my oldest walk in to begin his military journey with the U.S. Army. We have 2 months before he begins basic then AIT training to become an EOD specialist. I feel like Im standing on the sun eyes burning shut but my heart is so full of pride I could explodr at any moment.

Be brave Momma…be brave. We have men to continue to love through their journey and we get a front seat ride. Thanks for your words…Ill be drying my eyes walking back into the office now. 😉

YES!! Except mine isn’t walking away yet. I’m unpeeling his three year old arms from around my neck and putting him down in the lap of his favorite teacher and walking away while he kicks and cries and screams “I’M GOING TO MISS YOU SOOOOOO MUCH, MAMA” and it kills me a little every single time.

And at the same time, I know his little half-day Montissori program is the best thing for him to be doing every morning over here in Laos. Does my head in.

When I am at a loss for words, song lyrics always come to mind. The words of Let Him Fly by the great Patty Griffin came to mind when I read your post. There are two lines especially…”but you must always know how long to stay…and when to go.” And…”it took a while to understand the beauty of just letting go.” It’s so hard and beautiful to let them fly.

I have been doing this for 16 years now and it’s still not easy! My oldest is in college and my youngest drove herself to school for the first time this year. And yes I CRIED! I wanted her to say no mom, you take me I don’t want to drive, but she didn’t and I smiled as she left. I held my breath in constant prayer until the text came through… “I didn’t die”! Lol! I laughed a minute then I cried a minute because I’m not needed in the same way anymore, and I still had those same thoughts….please understand her, please smile at her, please know she is nervous, please have friends in your classes, please remember your manners and your conviction as it is tested…Fast forward till today when my oldest went for an MRI that came back with a rare genetic disorder that is causing her seizures…. Now the tears are for real and I just want my baby girl (who is 20) to grow up and have a life and not need mom bc she probably always will in more ways than we anticipated. Funny how the tides turn! God is guiding the way and we will make it! Whatever the word is it will have lots of feelings attached! God bless all of us!

I think this is my first comment, although I read your blog regularly. I am not a fan of speaking my mind publicly, but I was moved by your comments on the Facebook post for this blog entry. Some mamas brought some judgement to the discussion (in reference to homeschooling) and I really appreciated your heartfelt, honest, and kind responses. Your dedication to the respect and love of this community keeps it a kind and open place. Thank you for creating it and sharing it with us.

Both of mine (BOTH of mine!) are in school now (well, preschool and kindergarten). And it’s exciting and terrifying and they are loving it so so SO much that I can only be happy for them and fiercely hope that it continues to be so wonderful for forever and ever amen…

Absolutely. Watching my boy walk into the middle school (or head off on a scout camping trip or any of those things) tears at my heart a little. I’ve always wondered why nobody told me that the whole point of parenting is to grow them so they’ll one day leave you. Perhaps that’s an obvious thing that I should have figured out for myself. I didn’t … until he started growing. Ouch. But at the same time HOORAY! Some day (in the far, far future according to MY plan) I won’t be here to guide and help and show him the way. It’s okay. He can handle things.

Here’s the letter I just wrote for my kids this school year. (*sniff sniff*)
“Wow… 8th grade, 6th grade, & 2nd grade… Every year it seems that summer days go by faster and faster, and the first day of school arrives sooner than any of us expected. Sometimes I say that I wish time could stand still, and you could remain this age forever, but the truth is, I DON’T wish that. Everything is as it should be. You are growing up, and changing, becoming independent, and figuring out what gifts and talents you have to offer the world.

I know that the first day, the unknown, can make you anxious. But I also know that it is exciting… I’m so grateful that each of you still has a love for school, a love for learning. And I also know that beginning higher grades means higher expectations. Yes, we still expect you to work hard and constantly challenge yourself to improve. We always will. But the truth is, you have already exceeded our expectations. Everyday you leave this house with a kind, open heart and an interested mind. You walk into school ready to embrace the energy around you, ready to share your unique gifts with others, and willing to understand those different from you.

Often, people will ask parents, “What do you want for your children?” And often, the reply is, “I want my children to be happy.” My response is this: “Although I do want my children to be happy, happiness can be fleeting. What I truly desire for my children is that they find joy in their lives. That they grow into thoughtful, passionate, and productive people who care about the world around them — that they never stop exploring, and discovering, and asking questions, that they surround and engage themselves with people who challenge them and build them up. That they remain interested and interesting.”

So, THAT is my wish for you as you walk off into your new classrooms. May this be another amazing school year filled with continued joy and new adventures.

WOW. You just put into words EXACTLY what I felt a month ago when I dropped off my 14 year old son at high school for the first day. Except that I wasn’t able to shrug it off and bawled the entire way home! And I just teared up reading this because it so accurately described what I felt that day that it brought me right back to that moment. You really have a gift with words.

I have 4 sons 13-19 years old. There is nothing like this love. It never changes either. EVER! My oldest was struggling with his grades. His whole senior year we knew he might not graduate on time simply over home work. With straight A’s on tests and all quizzes I ended up having a stroke. Yes a literal stroke, an E.R. in the hospital stroke over it. LOL Yeah!! I think it is something like looking into the sun. 🙂 We just want them to be loved as much as we love them and for them to always love themselves as much too. ! I getcha Girl!!

the worst part is the part of free will that they gain, the free will to make the mistakes you wish they wouldn’t make but ultimately do and hopefully learn from these mistakes. If we keep them holding on to our “apron strings” they will never be able to become a viable part of this world of ours……unfortunately, our hearts are so fragile and we don’t want to see these mistakes, heck we don’t even want them to break a fingernail for pete’s sake!….but we must let go, for this is the way of life <3

I feel what your feeling. Simply because I feel it everday with my 2 kids and they still in primary school. How about middle and high school. God knows how I will be doing. I am afraid I will be parking at the school park everyday until they graduate from high school.

Now, why do you have to go and make me cry at work!?! I am there with my 6th grade boy. How did he get to be 5’2″? What’s up with that jerk that tricked him into going outside on the first day after lunch saying there was fun stuff and it was an empty yard? Will he make friends? Will he get beat up because he is one of the smart kids? Will he eat pizza every day or make better food choices? He hates the bus because kids curse there, so I have to take him. How can I not just fix it?

My son turned 17 Monday. In an inpatient facility for suicidal teens. He told us last night he believes he is transgender. He still has a year and a half in high school. I want him home so badly and I so afraid to have him home because he wont be “safe” from himself. I cannot breathe.

My heart goes out to you. Do you have support? PFLAG is a wonderful resource, and TransYouth Family Allies. This is a lot to deal with alone.

He has been incredibly brave to tell you something so scary, and it also shows that he trusts you. He needs to know that you love him no matter what and that you accept whoever he discovers himself to be. All that unconditional love you’ve been pouring on him all these years–just keep it coming.

My 17 y/o son attempted suicide on 7/12/12. He was depressed, addicted to video games and also struggling with undiagnosed Aspergers Syndrome. Thank God he lived. I feel your pain, I am so glad to hear that he is in treatment. I hope he figures out, as my son did, that it gets better. That suicide is not the answer. (September is Suicide Awareness month) I will pray for you both. Just let him know you love him, not in the way you need to tell him, but in the way he needs to hear. For our son, saying “i love you” didn’t register, “All parents have to say that” was his response…..saying that we would “carry him on our backs, feed him, change his diapers for the rest of his life”, if his attempt had left him unable to do these things permanently (as it did for the first months after his attempt) was something he understood.

Melissa…I am so sorry to hear about your son. I hope he gets the help he needs and knows he has your complete and total accepting love. I don’t know you but my heart goes out to you and your family. Our oldest son will be 17 in a few weeks.

Melissa – Take a breath. I’m sorry you are going through this, and also sorry your son is going through this difficult time! Just remind him that he is not alone! And please also remember that you are not alone. I believe you both have all the strength & courage you need to navigate this situation. And remember that lots of people out here are pulling for you!

Woops. I thought I was reading my wife’s blog. 🙂 That was about dead-on. With 2 teenage daughter’s and an (almost) 2 year-old son we feel the same. We home school the girls and are preparing for Luke’s future as well. They all went to a co-op yesterday that my wife also teaches at. Lucas went into the pre-pre-school and was alone for the first time with people he did not know. I imagine that ‘staring into the sun’ is how my wife felt watching him through the window as she was the one who walked away. Tough. It’s tough.

It is so so hard. Especially those moments when you know things are not going well- trying to step back and let/make them handle it, because YOU know they can even if THEY don’t know it yet; trying to hold your ground when they need you to (especially when they don’t think they need you to).

My oldest son just started middle school last Tuesday and and your words hit the nail on the head!! It is so hard! Overnight it seems they went from little babies to toddlers to elementary school to heading out to the world. It does fill your heart but braks it at the same time!!

I literally prayed, last night, for some peace to come to me with my son starting 5th grade – which is intermediate school for us..which (in my mind) might as well be high school! As I sit here, type and cry….I am so glad there is another mama out there with a young man feeling the same way I do. Every day that he gets out of the car with his UnderArmour shirt, Nike socks and other “cool” stuff, I want to pull him back into the car and drive right back over to elementary school. This has been one of the hardest transitions for me. Isn’t Kinder supposed to be the hardest? Then it gets easy for us moms to just drop off and drive away???? I need a 10 year old boy handbook – ASAP! 🙂

*gulp* thanks again for putting into words what I feel so exactly but would never know how to say. And to think, you get to feel it all over again with 2 more, although it’s never quite as scary as with that first child, is it? Because the two of you have braved all the frontiers of I have no idea how to be a mother together. Thank you as always.

I recently read The Marriage Plot by Jeffery Eugenides, and found this quote in it – unrelated to mothering – but it stopped me in my tracks as I continue this push pull dance with my 14 year old son…
‘It was as if her heart had been surgically removed from her body and was being kept at a remote location, still connected to her and pumping blood through her veins, but exposed to dangers she couldn’t see. Her heart in a box somewhere in the open air, unprotected.’
That is exactly how it feels.

Thank you; I needed this today. My oldest started Kindergarten this year and I feel like my heart is breaking. It is so wonderful and terrible at the same time. She is upset to see me at the end of the day because it means that school is over, and my head says I’m so glad she loves it! And my heart cries because she doesn’t miss me as much as I miss her. I feel bereft on account of my little boy, who has lost his best friend and playmate, and isn’t quite sure what to do without her. And my baby is almost 10 months already. Why is time flying by so fast?!? I have to let go of the time that our home was her whole world and I was the most important person in it. And I’m so excited to see her grow into a person that I couldn’t even dream of. But it hurts, just like looking into the sun.

Goosebumps and tears from this one! You really nail those “love hurts” mama feelings. My oldest is in college and, believe me, there is no word for the brutiful heartbreak of that departure. My youngest is still in middle school, and knowing he is my last makes the leaving that much harder.

My son is 9 months old and I am already starting the letting go process. Some days I wake up and it’s like I have a different child than the one I put to bed. Who is this bright-eyed, muscular little boy? Where is my soft, wobbly baby?
No one warned me about this whole mom letting go thing…

Now, in honor of all of you, I think I’ll go sing that song from Frozen. Just. because…

I want to tell you all that it gets better, but the truth is that no matter what age, it hurts, hurts, hurts to let go. My youngest is a senior in high school this year and his brothers are in college, so every first last my senior son does this year echoes through my body, bounces around inside of me and rips pieces of me to shreds. And the ones at college? I spend every day wondering what they are doing and how I can help them…and if my helping is actually preventing them from becoming self sufficient. And what is my purpose if not to help and support them…and G you are so right when you say it’s like looking at the sun. Right now I am overcome. Verklempt.

I wish I could say the same. My youngest daughter is 29 and got married this summer. I have a 31 year old, also married, and she had our first grandbaby in May. I am an emotional wreck today. The younger and her husband were here for a week and left yesterday. I was busy and did OK the rest of the day after they left, but today I just want to bawl. Letting go is soooo darn hard, and I should be well over it. I will get through it as I have with all the coming and going over the years. I have to remind myself that God did not “give” them to me. They were on loan and they are His. Now they are out in the world making a difference in their own way. I will add that being a grandma is delightful and I get to babysit our little guy twice a week!

I suspected it didn’t get any easier. My boys are 8th and 5th, and I talk to them daily about the intrinsic value of the multi-generational family home and the greatest gift any parent can give their adult child – free childcare. They just roll their eyes and say, “OK, OK, Mom”. 🙂

G- my oldest baby started Kindergarten this year and I’ve shed a lot of tears these past few weeks. He’s having trouble in school. doing things us monkees try hard to teach them NOT to do. I don’t know what it’s going to take but I am trying to give him more discipline, listen to him harder and remind him about good choices and being kind and brave. Every day my thoughts keep returning to him as I wonder if I’ll get a phone call today or a note home asking me to “please speak with him again”. And I’ve got two younger ones to worry about too. It’s tough, sometimes I wonder if my heart is big enough for all this worry and love… and like you, I wish I could just keep them all home with me snuggling forever. Somedays it really does feel like too much 🙁

My only child is a freshman in college now. She is 267 miles away (yes, I know exactly how many miles). I cannot count how many times I have said the pleasepleaseplease thing since she has been gone – 19 days now. I am hoping this gets easier. She knows her momma misses her and so she calls and/or texts every single day. Strange world in that we let go what we love the most.

It will get easier, Julie. This one take a while, but it will. Mine called almost every day, too (I wasn’t texting then, and I was given a lot of grief about it). It was still hard.

Then there were the days she would call four times, and not understand why I wasn’t ready to drop everything or *quite* as thrilled to hear from her. Turns out interruptions from 267 miles away (fewer miles, in our case) can still be annoying. 😉

It will get better. I doubt it will go away. But honestly? After finally getting (mostly) used to it — she did come home during the year — by the the first summer, I had gotten so used to it being just my husband and me, it felt a little weird to have her back! Then I got used to that, and she left again. Sigh….

Full on ugly crying. You got it. But then I worry. Mine only just turned 8. 8!! Why must the years rush on so fast???? I am torn to shreds this year. I see him becoming and I see him hurt. And I die. And I live. And feel so full of muchness. God, this parent thing is hard! And wonderful.

Oh G! My brave love started kindergarten this year. Let me give you a quick recap so far: Week 1 – too sick and missed first 3 days. Week 2 – he & his new friend were calling a classmate Poopy Jennifer so she would chase them. Week 3 – A new friend taught him & other boys a game called Punch your Weenie. Week 4 – he had a potty accident because he was afraid to interrupt his teacher by raising his hand.
My reaction has been – maybe we homeschool & I can stay with him always and forever amen.
So far my husband and the already paid private school tuition have kept me from doing it. Good grief! this Momming gig is TOUGH.

I don’t know what to call it either G – part of that “heart walking around outside your body” thing I think.

My Kindergartener told me he cried 3 times the first day but none of them were because he was missing me.
1) recess – some kids told him he had to be “the bad guy” and he didn’t want to be “the bad guy”
2) lunch – no one from his class was at the allergy free table with him although there were other kids at the table at least
3) art – he thought he “couldn’t draw people good” when they were drawing pictures of their family.

Each day I get an accounting of how many times he cried. (some eventually included missing me) Yesterday, for the first time, he told me he didn’t cry at all – yay! Everyday I try to tell him how proud I am of him for being brave and going to school all day. (He only turned 5 in July – seems so little getting on the big yellow school bus but he has big brother to ride with this year and next so that’s good.)

Still, I wish he could wear a mini go pro camera all day and I could logon anytime and see what was happening. “live Kindercam” 🙂